Kid-versations

December 11, 2012 |

Living with my kids is like house-sharing with a comedy trio. The conversations in my house make me routinely shoot coffee out of my nose. I’m pretty sure their comic dialogue is some kind of evolutionary survival instinct thing…it certainly saves our sanity on those “Mama is losing her mind” days. (Let’s be honest – that’s most days because getting my kids to listen and follow instructions is a parenting skill I am yet to master.)

Just last week, this conversation took place while I was driving the girls to dancing. It led to me nearly crashing into a tree:

Miss M: I did not say she comes from China… I said she came out of your VAGINA!

Then there was the daycare Christmas party. Santa was about to arrive when Baby G pulled me close and whispered urgently in my ear,

“Mum, when Santa comes, don’t tell him we’re Jewish!”

If that didn’t melt my heart, then the first thing Baby G said to me on Monday morning did. She came to my bed, breathed in my face, smiled and asked.

“Does my voice smell nice?”

Little Man is funny, without knowing it. Besides me, he is the most scatter-brained person I know. Getting him ready for school usually involves me asking him to get dressed, then coming back to him twenty minutes later to find a boy with one sock half on playing Star Wars with his hands as ships. A couple of weeks ago, he proudly told me he was ready to go to school and we had this conversation:

Me: Have you brushed your teeth, brushed your hair and made your bed?

Little Man:Yes, except I forgot to brush my hair and do my bed. And also my teeth.

Oh, yes, mornings are a hoot at my house. Especially when, while unknotting curly hair, nagging half-dressed kids and packing lunches, I have conversations like this:

Baby G: Mummy, when I getted out of your tummy, what did you say to me?

Me: I said ‘Hello Baby G! Nice to meet you!’

Baby G: But how did you know my name?

Sometimes, while wrestling Little Man into school clothes (because he is still fighting the Dark Forces instead of getting ready ), he lets me in on some deep and meaningful thoughts, like this:

Little Man: When I grow up, I might marry Emma, Sara or Amy.

Me:How will you choose?

Little Man: Well, Emma is a good dancer, Sara is a good speller and Amy is a good reader.

Me: Hmmmm…tough choice.

Little Man: I think I’ll choose Emma because even though it’s important to read and spell, I heard the most important thing in marriage is flexibility. And Emma can do the splits.

Well, he is right. Marriage is all about flexibility. As is motherhood. Something I didn’t know, going into this parenting gig is just how flexible we mums have to be. For example, we need to be able to have conversations through toilet doors. Of course, this is only once we’ve mastered the art of actually getting to be in the bathroom alone. If you’re not there yet, be patient grasshopper. Baby G has clued on to this going-to-the-toilet-alone concept and last week insisted I wait outside when she went:

Baby G:Mum, don’t come in and don’t look, okay?

Me:Okay, but why?

Baby G:Because I am doing privacy.

Speaking of toilet-related conversations. Here are two that happened in the car a while back:

Little Man: Eeew! Someone farted!

Miss M: Baby G, was it you?

Baby G: No! I did a fart two times at daycare and once at dancing but I didn’t do a fart in the car!

Oh, it gets better…

Miss M: (Solemn and full of conviction) Farts are very dangerous, you know. You could think you need to fart and next thing you poo!”

There are also those delicious conversations where words are mixed-up and mispronounced in the most delightful way:

“Mum! I need a tissue! My nose is sweating!”

And this:

Baby G:Mum! Help me! My lips are trapped!

Me: (Alarmed) What do you mean, they’re trapped? How? Where? We don’t have traps!

Baby G: (pouting) Look!! I licked them too much and now I need lip-balm, mama. They are trapped!

After a moment, the penny dropped. Yes, folks – they were chapped. If I could make four years old last longer. I would. Baby G’s innocence and total self-belief fills me with awe. These little observations of hers put a smile on my face:

After measuring me from head to toe with a tape measure, she solemnly declared, “Mum, you weigh half past quarter to seven!”

and

“You’re never going to be a granny, Mum. Only old people can be grannies. You will always be a little mummy because you have straight skin.”

and

“Mummy, your bike has 2 wheels so it’s called a bicycle. My bike has 3 wheels, so it’s called a bitriple.”

(She was so proud, I just couldn’t bring myself to correct her.)

Yep, this kid has nailed cute. Even when she’s being naughty:

Baby G: Muuu..uuum! You must just go in the study, okay? I will tell you to come out later. Don’t come out until I say come out.

Me: But why?

Baby G: Because I don’t want you to see me stealing a lolly.

Little Man, being older and wiser at age 7, has nailed cute and honest. When I put on a bikini (first time this Summer and not a fun experience, I can tell ya), Little Man walked in. His face lit up in a giant grin and he exclaimed,

“You look so nice in your giant bikini!”

Now, not only is he cute and honest. Little Man is also very knowledgeable and takes it upon himself to educate his little sister.A few weeks back, he was looking at a book about Australia. Baby G saw a photo of the Sydney Opera House and asked him what it was. With utter conviction and great authority, he replied:

“This is the Sydney Opera House. The President of America lives there. It’s in Hawaii.”

There are a lot of funny conversations in my house and I cherish them all and write them all down for fear of forgetting them. I’m so glad I do, because every now and then, one like this happens and I grin from ear to ear. These conversations are the ones I treasure the most:

Miss M: Are we rich, Mum?

Me:Well, what does rich mean

Miss M: I think it means you have everything you want in the world

Me:Okay, then. So do you think we’re rich

Miss M:I think we are the richest, Mum. Because we have lots of people who we love and who love us and that means we have everything we want in the world.

I would love to hear the funny and beautiful things your children have said, so please write them down in the comments section below or visit They Call Me Mummy’s Facebook page and comment there.

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Loved this! Such a sweet, tender, hilarious and adorable collection. Just like your kid,s I so wish I had started blogging when my oldest was a baby, I feel sad about all the little gems that have been lost. It’s amazing how you forget what you thought you never would Your comment about age 4 reminds me of Finny at age 4. It was the best. I love four. I’m excited to have one more four year old in a couple of years

One morning, my niece came downstairs with a partially-eaten bag of hot corn chips. She offered me a taste, to which I replied, “no thanks, I don’t want diarrhea.” She then turned to my mom and said, “Gramma, do you want diarrhea?”

Awww Michelle – so sweet! It is so wonderful that you are writing all of these down because you do tend to forget these things! I didn’t know Obama lived in the Syndney Opera House…I’ll have to inform the American media that they are camping out in the wrong location! LOL! Thanks for always bringing a smile to my face! Lisa

last night i had just one of those moments – I was getting dressed up for a wedding and I put on a long green dress and my 3 year old little boy piped up “mommy, did you just become a princess?” Ooooh, how I love these little moments.

I wish I would have kept a journal of all the gorgeous things my daughter has said and done but sadly I never got past the first page so it’s all gone now. Ty for sharing & I’m following u now so look out! Lol (ps: love the way you’ve set up your blog I hope I can figure out how to do mine similarly)

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Welcome to They Call Me Mummy! My hope is that by sharing my less-than-perfect parenting moments, struggles with identity as someone other than The Mother and the often laugh-out-loud chaos that my Adult ADHD brings to my life, They Call Me Mummy can be a place where other imperfect parents can come to exhale and say, "me too."